


M. Bread

by LittleMissWolfie



Series: Miraculous A/B/O Universe [2]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alpha!Tom, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, F/M, First Meeting, Fluff, I apologize in advance, beta!Sabine, kinda???, there's a horrible pun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 05:12:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8698375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleMissWolfie/pseuds/LittleMissWolfie
Summary: Sabine, lost and hungry, stumbles upon a bakery.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fic kinda came about when I was discussing how Marinette's Chinese heritage should affect the main story of Pack with my dear friend who is studying Chinese language and culture as their major. You don't need to read Pack to read this (since these events happen before the main story), and you don't need to read this to understand Pack. It's just a fluffly little piece I threw together.

Sabine had only been in Paris for a week and she was missing her family.

She’d left her mother and brother back in Wengzhou when she came to study in France--to get away from  _ China-- _ and she often wondered if she’d made the right decision. Her French was elementary at best and the city was so much different from Wengzhou that she felt overwhelmed nearly all the time. She could only hope her brother would find an Alpha from elsewhere in the country to get him and their mother away.

On that particular day, Sabine had been walking and, unfortunately, gotten herself lost while wandering and trying to familiarize herself with the city. All the buildings looked the same to her, and just when she was feeling helpless, she smelled the comforting scent of bread and sugar.

She followed the scent hopefully.

 

 

 

The bread scent lead her to a building that, surprise surprise, looked just like all its neighbors. The sign proclaimed it to be a bakery, and she could see fluffy loaves in the tinted windows. She reached into the pocket of her oversized sweater, praying to whatever god there was that she had enough francs to buy something.

Just then, a side door banged open, and the largest man Sabine had ever seen in her life emerged from it, carrying an armful of wooden crates. He couldn’t have been much older than her, she was sure, despite his size. His hair and mustache were both a light brown color and, even from where she stood, she could tell his eyes were a stunning shade of green. 

As if he sensed her eyes on him, the man turned towards her and his face flushed. He quickly sat the boxes down, wiped his palms on the apron tied neatly around his rotund waist, and shuffled over to her. “Hello,” he said in a warm voice that made Sabine instantly feel at ease. 

“Hello,” she said slowly, trying to mimic his pronunciation. She knew the word, of course, but pronouncing it was difficult at times. In Mandarin, pronunciation was very important, but it wasn’t as big a concern in French. “This is a bakery?” She spoke even more slowly, more unsure of the words.

He smiled. “Ah, yes,” he said, slowing his speech so she could understand him better. “We sell bread and pastries. Are you interested?”

“I am not sure I have the correct amount of money. French currency is very different from China.” She winced mentally. She was sure there was a better way to phrase that, but she couldn’t be positive. 

“Oh, you’re from China? It must seem strange to be here. If you’d like, I’ll help you out.” He stuck his hand out towards her in a universal symbol of friendship. “My name is Tom of bread.”

“M. Bread?” she asked, tilting her head.

He paused, a strange look on her face, before he started laughing heartily. She felt her cheeks flush. “No, no, I apologize,” he said when he caught sight of her red face. “It’s a reasonable mistake. My family name is Dupain. It’s a good name for a baker, don’t you agree? May I ask for your name?”

She took a moment to think. “My name in China is Cheng Sulin, but I recognize it might be difficult for the French to say, so my Western name is Sabine.”

“Sabine,” he said, and she found herself watching the way his lips moved around the syllables. “Do you mind if I call you Sabine, then?”

“If I may address you as Tom,” she replied.

He smiled at her, a warm, kind smile that lit a fire low in her belly. With his size and confidence, he must be an Alpha, she decided. He held the bakery’s door open and ushered her in, and she felt the warm press of his large hand on the small of her back as she passed. For the first time since she set foot on European soil, she felt happy to be there.

A week later, he presented his offer of courtship.


End file.
